The blog of a romance novelist and poet. Semi-nomadic between England and France, a curious curtsey to cuisine and country.

Sunday, 17 February 2013

Springtime Postcard From Saint Savinien

My wonderful home.

I cannot hide my joy at just being alive here in France. Springtime is special of course, wherever you are. It represents something of a forgiveness to me - that the great generous heart of the universe has once again let me have its warmth. Surely, this is how pagan folk must have felt.

Brave tiny blooms - your beauty is stronger than my self important life

Oh - thank you thank you for your gorgeous push and pulse

I set out into Saint Savinien with my camera to take some pix of the first push of Spring. Oooh - it made me feel quite frisky - and at my age....no risky. God knows how many progeny I would have borne if I'd not lived in Republic Bar of Urbania. Springtime in South London was when they changed the revolving lamb kebab lump-a-stuff in the Istanbul Delite Tonite Takeaway window. Here, the season pushes out its cry of new life. It's orgasmic and I love it! So, all in all it's romantic novelist and poet goes OTT with vernal lust. Here are a few images:

Reach and reach and reach and reach. I offer only my open shouting beauty. I AM ALIVE.

LOOK AT ME - I AM A MIRACLE

You just cannot beat these simple little blooms. I think of them as cherub kisses planted with a wink. Oh - joy joy joy!Emma Thinx: Life sometimes shit. You always seed. GROW!

2 comments:

I've said it before. I'll say it again. What a beautiful place in which you live. I felt the same way when I lived in Vancouver, British Columbia. Beauty can never be overrated. It IS stupendous. Thanks for this sneak preview of spring with all your passion included.